foreground to reality
Jun. 8., 2011 | 08:49 am
No:: her_crow
the sun is setting behind my back as she sends her electric wave across the vast landscape of my metaspace. for a moment I feel completely illuminated by the fusion of sunlight and her power; for a moment I feel all my shadows burning in agony. wave after wave until I am dazed by this unstoppable force and its aftermath.
we lie on the bed facing each other and her color sinks into me. the night slowly falls on our eyes and makes them heavy, but your orange vortex is like an anchor, it will not let me drift off to sleep. tonight I remember the rise of endymion - to make love to the right person is one of the few absolute rewards of being a human being, balancing all the clumsiness that go with the human condition; if there is a true religion in the universe, it must include that truth of contact or be forever hollow.
I smoke a cigarette, standing naked in the frame of the open window. the cool breeze feels smooth against my skin and makes me more solid again. suddenly something moves at the edge of my vision, I turn my head and try to find the motion on the dark cadence of trees. it seems etched in the picture, a dark mass in the foreground to reality, a stalking shadow in the tall grass. the dimness of twilight hides its features but I can feel it - its eyeless gaze measuring me, as if laughing at my ignorance. I can feel the distinction of the term ignorance in its directed thought. it shifts and changes form, and I get the impression that distance and space are irrelevant concepts for it. I probe it with my consciousness, and it tells me the meadow is empty. she walks into the room with a bottle of water and it disappears. a connection made and broken in a split second, in a half-breath. I did not even have the time to become afraid or form an emotion.
a morning of summer reflected in blue eyes. a bright and perfect day, a white bird flying above me as I walk.
we lie on the bed facing each other and her color sinks into me. the night slowly falls on our eyes and makes them heavy, but your orange vortex is like an anchor, it will not let me drift off to sleep. tonight I remember the rise of endymion - to make love to the right person is one of the few absolute rewards of being a human being, balancing all the clumsiness that go with the human condition; if there is a true religion in the universe, it must include that truth of contact or be forever hollow.
I smoke a cigarette, standing naked in the frame of the open window. the cool breeze feels smooth against my skin and makes me more solid again. suddenly something moves at the edge of my vision, I turn my head and try to find the motion on the dark cadence of trees. it seems etched in the picture, a dark mass in the foreground to reality, a stalking shadow in the tall grass. the dimness of twilight hides its features but I can feel it - its eyeless gaze measuring me, as if laughing at my ignorance. I can feel the distinction of the term ignorance in its directed thought. it shifts and changes form, and I get the impression that distance and space are irrelevant concepts for it. I probe it with my consciousness, and it tells me the meadow is empty. she walks into the room with a bottle of water and it disappears. a connection made and broken in a split second, in a half-breath. I did not even have the time to become afraid or form an emotion.
a morning of summer reflected in blue eyes. a bright and perfect day, a white bird flying above me as I walk.